He nodded. “Okay.”
She sighed, staring at their feet, if only to keep her eyes off the more arousing bits of Mercer. Even with her gaze preoccupied, his scent was all around her, heady and exciting, as thrilling as a physical touch.
“This is going to be complicated, no matter what we do,” he murmured. “No matter if I stay or go, or whatever rules we invent to keep from sexually assaulting each other, or how hard we try to rationalize everything.”
She nodded.
“So it can’t actually get much worse.”
“Not that I can foresee,” she said.
“Right.”
She sensed it as he stood a little straighter, and she raised her chin to scan his face. He still looked beat, but there was a glimmer of resolution. He’d made peace with their situation.
“I’m gonna kiss you now.”
She started. “Excuse me?”
“Things between us can’t get any worse, so I’m gonna go ahead and make a move on you. Only way I’ll be able to get any sleep tonight.”
“Don’t do that.” Do it. Do it.
He put his wrapped hand to her jaw, leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. He kept it slow to start, giving Jenna a chance to protest, a chance to cling to her charade of propriety.
No way in hell.
She kissed him back, tasting salt on his lips—the flavor of a man who’d spent the past few hours trying to beat the desire out of his body. Desire for her. His tongue brushed hers and she grabbed his arm, thrilling anew at its hardness, its size. He kissed her until soft moans hummed from his throat, until he’d backed her against the door and her palms had slid south, from his chest to his stomach to his hips. Next and final stop—Bad Decisionville.
He broke away, taking a step back. The look in his eyes was wild and his tongue traced the corner of his lips. He began unwinding the tape from his hands, exciting as a striptease. Jenna held her breath until he spoke.
“I’m gonna take a shower. That gives you ten minutes to change your mind about where this is heading. If you come to your senses, shut your bedroom door. If you’re as stupid as me, leave it open, and we’ll find out what the hell else is supposed to happen between us.”
CHAPTER SIX
JENNA WAS FROZEN, dumbfounded as she watched Mercer turn the corner to the bathroom. Ten minutes? Ten minutes wasn’t nearly enough time to decide what to do.
Then again, ten minutes was plenty of time to change into cuter underwear, and wasn’t that her answer, right there?
She jogged to her room and flung her suitcase open, rifling for anything that matched, preferably involving lace. Quick as a pit crew, she stripped and changed into her best bra and boy shorts, found a black camisole and yanked her pj’s back up her legs. It’d be dumb to pretend this was any kind of smooth seduction, so she didn’t bother wishing for candles, for a chance to freshen her makeup. All they needed was a bed.
Actually, all they probably needed was a floor.
Oh crap, and condoms—which she didn’t have.
Maybe that was for the best. She wasn’t going to follow the Spark guidelines for how far and how fast to go with a man, but she didn’t need to go all the way before even making it to date number one.
The water running in the bathroom shut off and panic—exciting and pleasurable panic—gripped her. She lowered the dimmer and sat on her bed, heart in her throat, until she heard the bathroom door open. Footsteps, then silence, more footsteps and the kitchen went dark.
Footsteps, and Mercer was in the threshold in a T-shirt and boxers. He looked her in the eye. “This door get blown open?”
“No. I guess I left it open.”
“Guess you did.” And that was all anyone said for a little while.
She’d been afraid it would be awkward now, with intention behind whatever was coming, instead of those earlier mutual, spontaneous lapses in good sense. But it wasn’t awkward. It was mindless and fast, wholly instinctual.
He was on her in seconds, pushing her onto her back, his weight feeling sinful against her hips as he braced himself above her. She welcomed his kiss, deep and aggressive and everything Mercer, as primal as a man ought to be. He lit her up like no one ever had, on a pure and animal level, a connection no measure of logic could predict.
He got his knees between hers and she swept her palms down his body, filled her lungs with the smell of his soap, felt the beads of water still clinging to his bare arms. Between her legs she could feel him, stiff and ready. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she had boundaries to establish. She commanded her mouth to find a purpose outside of tasting his, and tore her lips away.
“How far are we going?”
“Won’t know till we get there.”
“I haven’t got any condoms.” She gasped, unsure how she’d gone from lying on her back to being held to his chest, legs wrapped around his waist. He stood and carried her out of the room and past the kitchen.
“What are you doing?”
“Faster than bringing the condoms to you.” He pushed the door to his dark room open with his shoulder and set her on his bed. It felt sexy, sitting there, smelling him everywhere in this private space. Still, Jenna wasn’t sure how comfortable she actually wanted to get.
As he rooted through a dresser drawer, she said, “I wasn’t upset about not having condoms.”
He turned to her, streetlight glinting off the shiny plastic square in his hand. “Oh?”
“Give it to me.”
He crossed to the bed and handed it over. Jenna tucked it beneath a pillow. “I’m in charge of when that thing gets used. If it gets used.”
“The woman always is.”
“Good.”
“Where were we?”
In a breath they were on their sides, legs tangling, hands exploring. The kissing grew shallow and their breathing heavy. Everything about him was sexy. His wet hair, the firmness of his shoulders and his chest, the heat of his skin. Memories flashed through her head, of watching him in the gym not even an hour before. He could do extraordinary things to an opponent with that deadly body. What on earth could he do to her?
She sighed as Mercer cupped her breast and edged his body lower, kissing her collarbone as he fondled her. She shifted her legs, welcoming the taunting brush of his erection against her thigh. She tugged the front of his shirt up a few inches and stroked her palm over his bare, hard stomach, fingertips brushing his waistband and the soft hair hiding just behind it.
“Jenna.”
There was a rasp to his voice, the same gruffness she imagined might possess him as he stepped into a ring. Damn, she was objectifying him again. But she’d never moved this fast with a guy before, and he was the perfect man—the perfect body—to be reckless with. Whatever they had, it was bigger than either of them.
Charged with lust, she tugged until he peeled his shirt away. With a coaxing push, he rolled onto his back. Jenna slung a leg over his waist to straddle him. She couldn’t get close enough to this man.
He swore, hands flying to her hips to hold their bodies tight, center to center. She pulled her camisole up and off. They were bathed in yellowy streetlight, harsh and gritty and urban, just like the man beneath her. The honk of a car horn, the screech of brakes,